The Pursuit of Happiness
by ilovetvalot
Summary: Happiness...genuine happiness…was a rare commodity in a world rife with struggle. TWOSHOT
1. Chapter 1

_**Author's Note: Hi, guys! We've got a few notes for you today. First up, all the assignments for "The Dog Days of Summer" challenge have been private messaged to the recipients. If you have not received your message and you signed up for the challenge, then please, let me know.**_

_**Tonnie and I are diligently working toward our nomination ballot on the second annual "Profilers Choice Awards" hosted by Chit Chat on Author's corner forum. Look for it in the upcoming weeks at the forum. And, of course, we'll be advertising it in our author's notes within our stories. Any of our fellow authors, please feel free to promote the awards as well. The more the merrier.**_

_**Also, we're continuing to have oodles of fun with our fellow authors and readers over on facebook. I'm getting to know a lot of wonderful people over there and we've got quite the support system going. Feel free to come join the fun. Simply "friend" Ilovetvalot Fanfiction. I'll be sure to accept.**_

_**Also, we love hearing from you. So, drop a review if you have the time. They truly make our day.**_

* * *

**The Pursuit of Happiness**

**Chapter One**

Happiness...genuine happiness…was a rare commodity in a world rife with struggle.

She'd learned this lesson at an early age. Experiencing those moments of true bliss often was an unexpected delight that could never be explained. It could come in many different forms... in the feel of a puppy's wet nose nestled against her neck, in the sound of a baby's deep belly chuckle when fingers found that one sweet spot on a bare belly, in the taste of that first bite of her Nanna's banana cream pie...endless places, but often, they remained hidden until she stumbled blindly across them.

Like an unsub, true joy was evasive. It could slip through her fingers before she even realized the treasure she held.

She should know. She had lost it too many times to count.

Staring at her half empty glass of wine, she glanced around the dim bar, seemingly happy couples surrounding her. Everyone had someone.

Except for her.

She was alone.

Closing her eyes for a moment, she acknowledged that it was partly by choice. Since returning to DC, her friends had tried to reconnect with her, to guide her back into their family with the intensity often reserved for missionary recruits. But, she'd resisted. She didn't deserve their forgiveness...and she had definitely done nothing to earn it.

Oh, she'd tried to force herself past the cold numbness that pervaded her body every hour of the day, accepting their hugs stiffly, tightly smiling when they attempted to coax her from the protective shell she had wrapped around herself as a shield. Some days, she was even half convinced that she was slowly returning to normal.

Or whatever normal was in this day and age.

Of course, she was also a pro at lying to herself.

Every day, without fail, she began her day by reminding herself that Doyle was dead. That she was safe. And then, she'd stumble into her bathroom and look in the mirror.

Lifting a hand, she unconsciously touched his brand and recognized the truth for what it was. While he might be dead, Ian wasn't gone. He'd never be gone.

He was a part of her, in more ways than could be seen on the surface.

Reaching for her wine glass, she drained it quickly, the sweet liquid rolling down her throat smoothly. Probably not her best therapy choice, but it would do in a pinch.

"Mind if I join you?" a deeply familiar voice asked from her left.

Tensing as she recognized the voice's owner, Emily forced herself to look up from her now empty wineglass. "Hotch," she said softly, the simple name almost catching on her tongue. "What are you doing here?" she asked, looking around for any of her other colleagues.

"Don't worry." Hotch shook his dark head as he slid into the booth across from her. "I'm here alone."

"I'm that obvious?" Emily asked uneasily, shifting uncomfortably in her chair.

"Emily," Hotch said softly, "We're profilers. There isn't much you're going to be able to hide from me. Not when you're this raw. And you're forgetting, I've been there."

Shifting awkwardly under his penetrating gaze, she averted her eyes, motioning to the waitress for a refill as she said, "I don't know what you're talking about."

Aaron waited for her to return her eyes to him and merely stared at her. "Your Doyle was my Foyet, Emily. Don't pretend not to see the connection," he ordered flatly. "Pleading ignorance isn't going to help you adjust. Pretending that you're fine isn't going to help you heal. You have to deal with what happened to you."

"I killed him," Emily said lightly, relieved when the waitress slid a new filled glass in front of her. "Case closed," she said, smiling tightly across the table at her Unit Chief.

"The Bureau isn't going to allow you to return until you can pass a psych eval, Emily," Hotch informed her grimly.

Emily nodded, toying with the stem of her glass with nervous fingers. "I know. I have it scheduled for next week."

"I know, too. I'm giving it. And right now, I can already tell you that you'll fail," Hotch replied softly, his tone even but honest.

Eyes widening as she absorbed his words, Emily stiffened. "What?"

"I can't let you back on the team like this, Emily," Hotch informed her regretfully, his hand resting on the edge of the table. "You'd be a danger to yourself and your teammates."

"Aaron, you can't do that!" Emily whispered frantically, shaking her head as she leaned forward. "The thought of returning to work has been the only thing keeping me sane and..."

"Are you hearing yourself?" Hotch asked gently, keeping his voice pitched low. "You're sitting here telling me that you want to come back to work in order to avoid dealing with your feelings."

"I didn't say that," Emily retorted, frowning as she pushed her hair off of her cheek.

"Didn't you?" Hotch parried, raising an eyebrow as he watched her cheeks fill with color.

"It's what you did," Emily hissed. "And none of us stopped you...criticized you...We supported you."

"And in hindsight, letting you all support me that way was a mistake. One that I won't make with you. You can't use the job as an excuse not to deal with your own emotions. I've made that error, Emily. Trust me, it doesn't work out well for anybody concerned. It will only prolong the agony."

"And you know this because you're such a happy, well-adjusted open person?" Emily snapped sarcastically, reaching up a hand to tuck a strand of her dark hair behind her ear. "Take a look in the mirror, Hotch. You define the word private. Can't you respect that in somebody else?"

"Not when it risks your safety," Hotch stated unapologetically. "We almost lost you, Emily. Twice. Once to Doyle's attack and once when you went on the run. Nobody is anxious to repeat the experience."

Closing her eyes when she felt tears stinging, Emily fought for control. Damn him! Damn him for this ambush! "What do you want from me, Hotch?" she asked through barely moving lips, her stiff shoulders forecasting her mood. "You want me to bear my soul? Tell you all about my suffering? Tell you how I still wake up at night screaming? Is that what you want to hear from me?" she asked bitterly, scrubbing her fingers over her now damp cheeks, tears escaping her closed lids.


	2. Chapter 2

_**Author's Note: Hi, guys! We've got a few notes for you today. First up, all the assignments for "The Dog Days of Summer" challenge have been private messaged to the recipients. If you have not received your message and you signed up for the challenge, then please, let me know.**_

_**Tonnie and I are diligently working toward our nomination ballot on the second annual "Profilers Choice Awards" hosted by Chit Chat on Author's corner forum. Look for it in the upcoming weeks at the forum. And, of course, we'll be advertising it in our author's notes within our stories. Any of our fellow authors, please feel free to promote the awards as well. The more the merrier.**_

_**Also, we're continuing to have oodles of fun with our fellow authors and readers over on facebook. I'm getting to know a lot of wonderful people over there and we've got quite the support system going. Feel free to come join the fun. Simply "friend" Ilovetvalot Fanfiction. I'll be sure to accept.**_

_**Also, we love hearing from you. So, drop a review if you have the time. They truly make our day.**_

* * *

**The Pursuit of Happiness**

**Chapter Two**

"I want to hear whatever you've got to say, Emily," Hotch offered quietly, his dark eyes never leaving hers.

"When does it get better, Hotch?" Emily asked faintly, her vision hazy as she tried to catch her breath again. "When do I stop jumping at my own shadow? When will I be able to sleep through the night without waking up in a cold sweat?"

"I don't know." Hotch shook his head, rubbing his thumb across the scarred table idly. "Sometimes those things still happen to me. But it gets better. You just have to decide what you want from your life now, Emily. For so long, you were forced not to think beyond the next twenty four hours. You had one mode. Survival. Coming back here to the land of normality...or as close to normal as people like us will ever find...it's going to take you some time to acclimate. You're never going to be the woman you were before, but you'll learn to embrace the person it's made you."

Laughing humorlessly, Emily rolled her eyes. "Yeah, right. Because I was such a bright, shiny person before all this crap happened, right?"

Lips twitching, Hotch met her gaze across the table dividing them. "And I was?" he asked dryly.

"True," Emily acceded, lifting one shoulder, the simple motion taking more energy than she had ever realized before.

"Emily, if you could have one thing, what would it be?" Hotch asked patiently.

Bending her head, Emily stared at the table. Verbalizing what she felt would sound corny...trite. But Hotch valued honesty and after all he'd done for...all he was trying to do for her...she owed him that much.

"Happiness," Emily answered in a husky whisper, the word coming out in a rush. "I want to be happy again."

"Ah, the ever elusive pursuit of happiness," Hotch sighed heavily, leaning back in his seat. "A quest filled with endlessly unrewarding journeys. But when a path toward it is found, it makes the voyage all the sweeter."

Cocking her head, Emily's mouth dropped. "Who in the hell are you? Tell me that at the end of my quest, I, too, will be able to channel Confucius," she mocked, her tone not as bitter as it had been earlier.

"A lot changes in a year," Hotch said simply as he shrugged. "Let's just say that when you left, I had to find a very Zen place in my head lest I start maniacally hunting Doyle, as well."

"My SAIC is practicing the art of Zen," Emily muttered to herself as she shook her head, attempting to displace the cobwebs threatening to overtake her thoughts. "I can die now because I think I've heard it all," she said as she smiled.

"Don't joke about that," Hotch growled, glaring at her suddenly as he stiffened in his seat.

"Sorry." Emily winced, realizing too late what she'd said. Leveling him with a piercing stare, she surmised, "You're going to shove me into therapy, aren't you?"

"That depends on you. How badly do you want to come back to the unit?" Hotch volleyed neatly, arching one brow.

"Damn," Emily muttered, knowing she'd been beaten. "Who would I have to talk to?" she asked reluctantly.

"Strauss agreed to allow me to do the sessions if I deemed it necessary during the evaluation," Hotch replied evenly. "Consider this your evaluation, Em. You need therapy. Would you rather it be with me or the resident quack at the Bureau?"

"I don't know," Emily mused with a small smile. "I could probably fool them."

"Exactly what I told Strauss," Aaron agreed as he smiled grimly, crossing his arms over his chest. "Although, if you agreed to stick with me, I might arrange for you to return as soon as, say, tomorrow," he offered.

"You pulled some really strong strings in order to be able to make me this offer," Emily noted softly, touched that he'd made this kind of effort on her behalf.

"Dave helped," Hotch replied. "But we think you're worth it. Now, the decision is up to you."

Swallowing painfully, she knew she was going to be forced into sharing her fears with someone. Better that someone be aware of just how difficult that was for her than not, right? "If I agree to this," Emily said hesitantly, fiddling with her glass again, "anything I said would remain confidential. I mean, I don't have to worry about you reporting all my deepest darkest secrets and fears back to Erin Strauss, do I?"

"Worried your mother might gain some insight into you through her?" Hotch asked knowingly.

"Hey!" Emily shook her head, then half-smiled sardonically. "It wouldn't be the first time, would it? Strauss has a habit of reporting back to dear old mom. Why do you think I insisted she be left in the dark about my so-called death? She wouldn't have been able to resist telling my mother once the Ambassador put on the pressure, whether she wanted to or not. And that would have led Doyle right to my mother's door. I might not like the woman, but I don't hate her, either. You, however, have a history of enduring the pressure my parental unit can bring to bear."

"I wasn't her sorority sister either," Hotch said with a rare smile, shrugging one shoulder, "but I catch your drift." Leaning forward, he stared Emily in the eye. "Unless I think you're a danger to yourself or others, everything you say...any confidence you trust me with...will remain completely private. The idea is to give you an outlet, Emily...a sounding board that's been where you have. And if I do feel like we need to gain a third party's perspective, I won't seek one without your express permission," he told her truthfully.

Sighing, Emily could see the parallels between their situation and knew that if anyone could help her overcome the demons nipping at her heels, it was the man in front of her. Ah, well, the intelligent woman inside her could recognize that the first step toward recovery began with the admission of one's problem. "All right, Hotch," Emily agreed solemnly. "I'll give it a shot."

Knocking once against the wooden table between them, Hotch nodded. "That's all I'm asking for. I'll see you tomorrow then. Get some rest tonight. We'll hit the ground running in the morning."

Nodding as she watched him slide out of the booth, she touched his arm as he began to pass her. "Hotch?" she whispered.

"Yeah," he said, pausing beside her.

"Thank you," she whispered seriously, her gaze meeting his dark eyes. "This means a lot."

Nodding, Hotch squeezed her hand before continuing on his way.

Exhaling heavily as she was left alone again, Emily relaxed against the booth.

The pursuit of happiness might be a long and winding road, but maybe with Aaron Hotchner's help, she could found the road that would bring her home.

_**Finis**_


End file.
